01-13-04 - 4:14 p.m.
Typing from a cybercafe where the raspberry mocha with whipped cream and chocolate chips resembles a sundae more than coffee. Last night he convinced me to pop half a percoset and I felt warm and free and happy -- like he was more beautiful than ever, and he kept kissing me like it was a new sensation, and we were kids again. As always, being under the influence made me honest and I brought up the subject of us getting back together and he told me he felt like he hasn't been with enough people to settle down, on one hand, and on the other I make him feel so good. I felt detached from my own feelings so instead of crying a muted pastel of sadness washed over me, just the same way brief waves of arousal moved across me as Bat kissed my breasts and nipples that evening. We danced to Dinosaur JR like two teenagers.
"I saw yer sitting thar and yer looked real pretty and I thaw maybe I could buy you a Bud Lhot er some Chicken Fing-ers" he whispered to me and winked in a Dale Earnheardt cap. "I thank yer cousin Roy maght be my bruther in law," I said blinking my eyelashes back at him. He is lucky to feel like a Southerner: I myself feel distanced both from where I live and where I was born, a little of both but not a lot of either one. I suppose my home will be wherever I settle.
We slept together, and I figure I'll never really get entirely sick of that. It never feels like repeated motions. Always beautiful.
My 15 mins is up.